December 1st
Yesterday I hid in my room all day. Dad and Sharon came back in the afternoon. Turns out they’d spent Friday night at a hotel in Emerport. Dad didn’t even bother with an excuse this time. He just wanted to be with his girlfriend—which is apparently more exciting than watching me dance.
You know what sucks? I still hope he’ll start caring, even though I know people hardly ever change. And you know what sucks even more? Realizing some people care for the wrong reasons—like Asher.
The flowers he gave me yesterday sit in a vase on my desk. Beautiful, stupid flowers. And I’m delusional enough to pretend he gave them to me because he likes me, not because he pitied me when my father didn’t show.
I like him. I wish I didn’t. I wish I liked someone like Kyle—someone my age, someone available, someone who actually likes me back.
But the heart can’t be told who to choose.
Like Mom used to say, “It’s the most stubborn organ, but it’s never wrong.
If you ever doubt who to trust, trust your heart. ”
I’m trying, Mom. But right now, trusting it feels like asking to get hurt.